The Cook
by infinityinanhour
Summary: This is what happens when I watch Breaking Bad while high on sleep deprivation. Warnings for swearing, sex, character death and Victor/Gale (you heard me right)


The first time Victor ever saw Gale, he shot him a look of disgust. He'd never question Gus's orders but the thought of having to babysit a chubby nerd with a bad haircut made him want to slit his own throat. He seethed inside as Gus introduced them, wondering if this was some kind of punishment.

The new cook on the other hand was pathetically cheerful. "Hello, nice to meet you, I'm Gale Boetticher." He stuck out his hand. Victor just stared at him until he dropped it. His smile only wavered for a moment though before he turned back to Gus, who was explaining the layout of the gigantic cardboard boxes that filled the room.

He wondered what the boss was thinking, dropping 8 mil on some fancy lab for this clown. Then he reminded himself that it wasn't any of his business what the boss was thinking, grabbed a box cutter, and started opening boxes.

Victor tried hard to hate Gale. And when that didn't work, he tried hard to ignore him, to shut him out like everything else, do his job, go home, sleep, repeat. He was always there though. Every time he stared too long at some of the fancy machinery he was right there explaining how it worked, talking all sorts of scientific sounding bullshit like he gave a flying fuck. And every time they set up another piece of the lab his eyes lit up like he was a fucking kid at Christmas. It pissed him off.

How could he be so happy about this all the fucking time? It wasn't natural to like your job so much. It was your job. You weren't supposed to like it; you were supposed to do it.

What pissed him off more though was how Gale looked at him. He knew what he was. He was the bad guy, the guy with the dead eyes who sat in the corner looking threatening, a guard dog. People backed away from him, didn't meet his eyes, treated him like he was rabid. And that's how it was supposed to be. They didn't talk to him like Gale did, like you talked to some regular person. Who did he think he was? He didn't know anything. He didn't belong here.

That was the biggest thing, the thing that pissed him off the most. Gale didn't belong here. He didn't belong in this world of meth superlabs and Mexican drug cartels. Any dumbfuck could tell that this was where Victor belonged just by looking at him. Then there were guys like Gus who put up a good front but were even worse than the rest of them. Gale wasn't like that though. There was something different about him. It took him a while to figure out what it was but eventually he got it. Gale Boetticher was innocent. And innocent people didn't last in this world. It was like a butterfly trying to roll with hawks or something. It was going to end badly. Gale didn't have a fucking clue what he'd gotten into and he was going to find out the hard way.

It had taken weeks, but finally the lab was all set up. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, the dials all turned to the right spot, everything done. Victor glanced over at Gale. It was like looking at one of those dumb cartoons where their eyes turned into hearts, stars floated around their heads, and shit like that. He shook his head to get the mental image out. But seriously, he looked like he was in love or something. "You really get off on this shit, don't you?" He surprised them both by speaking. He hadn't said a word that wasn't an order to Gale since they'd started and even that they'd worked down to a shorthand.

He got over his surprise quickly and smiled. "Yes, I guess you could say that."

He scoffed. "Pervert."

Gale turned bright red and started stammering incoherently. Victor turned and left before he could see the small smile that somehow found its way onto his face.

It had been a long day. Now that the lab was finally done, some new cook was brought in and the first thing he did was fire Gale to bring in his little junkie bitch. He had to remind himself that it wasn't his place to have an opinion. His place right now was on his knees, doing the stress relief portion of his job for the boss. It was his job, so he did it.

Just then the door burst open. It was Gale. He looked pretty bent out of shape and had probably come to talk to Gus about his sudden lack of job but when he saw what he was interrupting he looked like he might die of shock. He hastily shut the door and shouted some apology before running off.

Victor closed his eyes and didn't think. Don't think and do your job. That was how you survived in this kind of world and he always survived.

After that, things went back to normal. He faded into the background, watching the new cooks do their thing day after day. Then something crazy happened. They fucked up phenomenally, the junkie bitch disappeared and the old guy, Heisenberg or whatever, was on seriously thin ice for trying to cover for him.

And now Gale was back. He didn't know what he expected when he saw Gale again for the first time since that day. He didn't look at him even once, too busy drooling all over Heisenberg.

Victor hated the disappointment he couldn't completely kill. He hated the fact that he'd had any expectations. He had the urge to say or do something to make Gale look at him again. Why did he even care anyway? They didn't mean shit to each other. Fuck, there wasn't even an 'each other' to mean shit to. He wondered if he was going crazy as he curled his hands into fists at his side to keep himself still. Even if he was crazy, he wasn't stupid and he didn't do shit. No matter how much he wanted to.

Eventually Heisenberg bounced, leaving Gale to clean up and calibrate the machines or whatever the fuck he was doing. Victor stood back, leaning against a tank, deliberately not looking at him as he cleaned his nails with the switchblade he kept in his back pocket just to keep his hands occupied.

Very slowly and not at all subtly Gale started inching towards him. He ignored him even after he cleared his throat to get his attention.

"I, uh, just wanted to apologize for what, um, happened before. Your relationship with Gus is, of course, none of my business, and I neither care nor would I tell anyone, just in case, perhaps, it is, uh, not a secret per se, but just something you're not entirely open about with your coworkers. Oh, and I hope that we can move past any awkwardness and continue to have a good working relationship." This was obviously a speech he'd planned out in advance.

For a second Victor didn't say anything, didn't move, until he heard Gale draw in a breath to start some equally retarded follow up speech. He looked up at him, his eyes narrowed into a glare. "You done?" It was a statement, not a question.

This took Gale off guard. "Well, um, yes, I suppose so."

"Then bounce." He said, pushing away from the tank and leaving without another word.

When he got home he punched the bag until his knuckles bled. He didn't know why he was so angry. He didn't give a fuck if Gale thought he was in a 'relationship' with Gus just because he saw him giving him a blowjob, even if it was fucking retarded. Or that he thought he was some kind of fucked up closet case. He also didn't give a fuck that Gale thought they had some kind of 'good working relationship.' He didn't care about any of it. The feeling of his knuckles slamming into the rough fabric felt good, calming him down some. Eventually he found his way to bed, ignoring the fresh streaks of blood staining his sheets.

The next day passed. He made a point of staying up at the top of the stairs, keeping too far away for Gale to try to talk to even if he still wanted to. He was about to leave for the day when Gus called him in. He didn't waste any time before getting to business. "I trust that you're aware of the situation with Walt."

Victor nodded. He wasn't really sure which part of it Gus was talking about but it didn't matter.

"He's a smart man and I imagine that by this point he had already figured out that Gale is going to replace him. Although he doesn't strike me as a violent man, you're going to keep watch outside of Gale's apartment tonight while I consider how to deal with this."

He almost protested, he didn't want to spend even more time babysitting that guy, but he stopped himself in time. It wouldn't have done any good anyway. Still, Gus must have caught the tightening in his jaw or the look of anger that passed over his face. "Is there… a problem, Victor?" He asked, his voice deceivingly neutral. He'd been around the boss long enough to know that this was when he was at his most dangerous.

"No, no problem."

"Good. The address is 6535 Juan Tabo Boulevard, Apartment #6. I already mentioned this to Gale, so there's no need to for subtlety."

Victor nodded and left, cursing his fate. Of all the ways he wanted to spend a Thursday night, this wasn't it.

But there he was a few hours later, sitting in his car outside the apartment complex. It was just starting to get dark. Absolutely nothing was happening. At least usually on watch duty there was something worth watching out for but he didn't think that Heisenberg had the balls to try anything.

He was starting to get comfortable when Gale came outside and made a beeline for his car. He sank down further into his seat, trying to pretend he wasn't there. Even he couldn't be that fucking stupid, right?

But he was. He rapped on the window, smiling like an idiot.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Go back inside." Victor hissed at him.

Gale was a little taken aback. "I was just making myself some dinner and I thought I'd see if you'd like some. I'm making fettuccine alfredo and it's quite good if I do say so myself."

He gave him a hard look, seriously wondering if he was crazy. Maybe being around all those chemicals all the time had knocked a few screws loose. "No, I don't. Now go the fuck back inside already."

"Are you sure?" He asked, hesitating.

"Yes. Now go!" He swore under his breath as Gale turned and left, taking his damn sweet time about it. He almost wished there was someone out to get him just to prove how fucking stupid that was.

Just when he was wondering if Gale could possibly get any fucking dumber, he came back out. Again. Victor vaguely considered pulling a gun on him and ordering him to get his ass back inside and stay there but he didn't want that kind of thing getting back to Gus. He was really strict about keeping a low profile and all that, which Gale certainly wasn't fucking helping with.

Again he tapped on the window until he rolled it down. He shrank a little under Victor's glare but didn't leave. "What the fuck do you want this time?" He asked.

"I, uh, just wanted to see if you'd changed your mind at all. I am quite a good cook. I've picked some interesting recipes in my time traveling and I feel really bad about you just sitting out here-" He was interrupted by Victor practically slamming the car door into him as he got out.

He had no idea what he was thinking, leaving the car, being out in the open with the guy he was supposed to be watching, he just wanted him to shut up already. Besides, Gale had already fucked everything up enough that if anyone was after him then they'd already know he was there.

"Does this mean you'll try my pasta?" He asked, way too happy about this.

"Whatever. Just don't tell Gus about this. And stay the fuck inside." He shrugged as they went back to Gale's apartment.

His apartment was a weird combination of crap from around the world. Every flat surface was covered with something or another, mostly strange masks or miniature telescopes or CDs and shit like that. There were also a bunch of weird little machines that didn't look like anything. As usual Gale noticed him looking at them and launched into another of his boring, long winded explanations. Victor tuned him out, still scanning the apartment. At first he looked just at possible entries, exits, and anywhere a sniper could target but then he looked at the room itself.

Everywhere you looked there were the things Gale had collected, things that he thought were important, or interesting, or maybe just that had memories attached to them. He probably had his whole life story lying out here on shelves and desks, if you knew where to start. He thought about his own apartment, empty except for the essentials. What did that say about them? Did it say anything?

He pushed the thought away with a frown and leaned against the door while Gale went to the kitchen, spouting more crap about his stupid pasta.

When it was ready he reluctantly took a seat, after moving the books off of it, as Gale put a bowl of pasta and a fork in front of him. He felt like he was in a Twilight Zone rerun or some shit like that. He didn't go to people's houses, people didn't cook for him, and they definitely didn't start playing a fucking jazz CD in the background. All that went double for anyone he was supposed to be protecting from getting shot for cooking meth.

Gale came back in and sat down at the table, a cup of tea in hand. "What do you think?" He asked, gesturing to the pasta.

He answered with a question of his own. "Jazz? You're fucking kidding me, right?"

"Oh, uh, sorry." He quickly turned it off.

While he was gone, Victor took a bite of the pasta. It seemed stupid but he was already breaking rules just being in here so he might as well get something to eat. Damn though, he hadn't been joking, it was pretty good. It didn't hurt either that he hadn't eaten a real meal since yesterday. He lived alone, didn't cook, didn't trust delivery people, and didn't have time to eat out so he mostly lived off junk food and vending machines. He couldn't remember the last time he had anything this good.

He set into the pasta, barely glancing up when Gale sat back down. He looked way too happy and was grinning like an idiot. "Like it?" He asked, even though that should be pretty damn obvious at the rate he was eating it.

Victor only shrugged, not about to admit to actually liking something. He finished the bowl in no time though.

"Would you like some more?" Gale asked.

He shook his head. "I'm good." He was used to eating light so even that much sat heavily in his stomach like he'd eaten a brick instead of actual food.

Gale shrugged and leaned forward on the table. "So, how are you today?" He asked, perfectly seriously, like that wasn't the lamest way to start a conversation ever.

He gave him a hard look then shrugged again, not about to waste his breath answering. He'd never really liked talking. It didn't do anything and usually just got in the way.

He blew off Gale's next few attempts at small talk with more shrugs, a few monosyllables, and flat out ignoring him. He was starting to get annoyed. What did it matter to Gale whether he had any family close by or if he'd seen any good movies lately? It wasn't any of his business. It also made him a little uncomfortable, being asked his opinion on every last thing when he wasn't used to even having one, much less anyone giving two shits about it.

Then Gale asked something that got his attention in a bad kind of way. "So, uh, you and Gus… how is that going?" He fidgeted awkwardly, obviously dying to know but not wanting to ask.

Instead of getting angry, he snorted derisively. "You don't know shit. You don't really think that it's like that, do you? Fuck, you are a dumbass."

"But-"

Victor cut him off, not wanting to listen to whatever half-baked theory he'd come up with. "And why do you keep talking about it? You got the hots for Gus or something?"

He must've hit some kind of nerve because Gale instantly turned red and went on the defensive. "N-no, of course not."

"Oh yeah, it's Heisenberg, right? You've already got your nose up his ass anyway." He pressed, feeling weirdly satisfied by making Gale so uncomfortable.

"No, definitely not!"

"Then drop it already." He said, figuring that would end the conversation.

But Gale wasn't done. "It isn't either of them I'm interested in!" He said in one rush of air, red to his ears.

Victor frowned, caught a little off guard and not sure where he was going with that. There wasn't anyone else he worked around other than the boss and Heisenberg. Mike almost never went in the lab and he only met that punk kid once.

Then slowly he realized that there was one other person.

Him.

But no way, that wasn't right, it didn't work like that. Gale never had been any good at knowing how things worked though. Proof being that he was even here right now. He frowned at Gale, trying to figure out what he was playing at. It didn't make any sense. Gale squirmed under his stare, looking about ready to drop dead of embarrassment.

That's when he realized it. There was no play. Gale actually liked him, of all fucking people.

"Okay." He finally said with a shrug, breaking the silence.

Gale's head snapped up. "'Okay' what?"

In response he stood up, walked over to Gale, and kissed him hard. He tasted like the tea he'd been drinking with undertones of coffee and chemicals. "Okay this." He said, a wolfish smile tugging up the corners of his mouth at the look of shock on Gale's face.

The shock wore off pretty quick though and soon they were exploring each other's mouths.

Even as their hands started wandering, Victor wasn't sure why he was doing this. Gale wasn't exactly his usual type and he didn't want to think about what would happen if Gus found out.

He decided he was doing this for the same reasons he hadn't liked Gale: His persistence in treating him like a normal person and his innocence, his trusting naivety in a world full of cutthroats and criminals.

More than anything right now he wanted to ruin that innocence, disillusion him, corrupt him. Anything to drag him down to their level.

They barely made it to the bed, losing more clothes with each step. Gale fumbled with his belt so Victor undid it for him, eliciting a small sound from him as he brushed his hand against his cock.

That only made him more impatient and he practically pushed Gale onto the bed. "Where's the lube?" He asked, biting a little too hard into his ear.

Gale winced but didn't complain and quickly got a small container of lube. Victor spread some on his fingers and slid the first one in him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the way Gale's eyes widened in surprise. How did he think this was going to work? He put a second one in, scissoring them back and forth until he couldn't wait any longer.

A small whimper escaped Gale's lips as he pulled his fingers out of him which turned to a gasp of pain as Victor pushed himself inside of him from behind with a grunt. He was still really tight but eventually he managed to push himself all the way in. He could feel Gale trembling slightly underneath him, see the way he was biting his lip to keep back the sounds of pain. He waited until he was more or less ready before he started to move, slowing at first but faster and harder as he felt Gale relaxing into it, his sounds turning into moans of pleasure.

A final thrust and he came hard inside him, Gale's come already pooling on the sheet. He pulled out as the last throbs of orgasm faded, rolling onto his back. He shut his eyes, listening to the sound of their heavy breathing.

He felt Gale get off the bed, probably to the bathroom to clean himself up, and he didn't open his eyes until he felt him sit back down.

The first thing he saw was the question in Gale's eyes, the one he couldn't bring himself to ask. Was he going to stay or leave?

"I've got to stay. I still have a job to do, remember?" He reminded him although he hadn't been thinking much about his supposed job either.

"But would you-" He stiffened as Gale started to ask the question he didn't want to answer but he stopped himself, shaking his head. "Never mind."

It was a few days later that the order came from Gus. Heisenberg was done. Apparently Gale was ready to run the lab on his own with a heavy implication that he was going to be the new assistant, which would explain why Gus had made him pay attention to the process. It was way fancier than any meth he'd ever made before but after watching them for so long he was confident he could do it.

As for being Gale's assistant, he didn't know how to feel about that so he went with his default of not bothering to have an opinion. It was what it was and caring either way wouldn't change it.

He wasn't sure where he stood with Gale right now either but he liked the way things were well enough so again he didn't care. They'd fucked a few more times since the first. Afterwards he always slept on the couch and Gale didn't bring up any relationship crap.

Either way he was looking forward to killing that smug bastard Heisenberg. He wouldn't miss seeing his ugly face around, that was for sure.

It was going down tonight. As soon as Mike's spy shit caught him trying to move, he drove up to intercept him. "There's some kind of chemical leaking in your lab. You've got to come with me." He said, not caring if the lie was bad. Heisenberg was going to come either way. He had no choice and he knew it.

He almost seemed to believe it though until they got to the lab and he saw Mike there. Then started the usual routine of surprise, denial, bargaining, begging, anything they could think of to get a few more minutes of breathing.

He'd never liked this part. It was annoying having to listen to them beg. His hand itched to just shoot Heisenberg right now and get it over with but Mike was in charge and he had other ideas.

That's when everything went wrong, although he wasn't sure at first exactly what had happened.

"6535 Juan Tabo Boulevard." He said after yelling some sort of order to that guy Pinkman, who apparently had been in town all this time.

Gale.

Victor was gone before Mike could even give the order to go. He jumped in his car and sped off, blowing stop signs, red lights, and speed limits without even thinking about it, not even thinking about what would happen if a cop saw him.

No one tried to stop him though, not as he jumped out of the car almost before it came to a stop, not as his feet pounded up the stairs.

Time seemed to slow down when he saw the people gathered in the hallway, outside Gale's door. He knew at that moment that he was too late. Normally this was where he'd turn back so he wouldn't be seen. He kept running though. He had to see it with his own eyes. Because it was Gale and Gale couldn't be dead.

Then he saw his body lying in the doorway and it felt like the ground gave way underneath him.

Gale was dead.

He took a few leaden steps forward, trying to somehow deny what he was seeing. He didn't hear the old man telling him to leave. He didn't hear anything or see anything other than the body lying dead on the floor at his feet. The bullet had gone in just below his left eye, blackening it.

His face contorted in pain unlike anything he'd felt before. Gale didn't deserve this. He'd known that this was probably what was going to happen to him. He'd said it before: Guys like Gale didn't last in this world. But seeing him like this…

He'd never understood why people hugged the corpses of their loved ones, shook them, screamed at them, begged them to wake up like they actually could. He'd always thought it was stupid and overly dramatic. But now, with his throat tightening and hand reaching out instinctively, he thought he could understand.

More than anything he wanted to stay there. As soon as he left he would never see him again. It would be like he never existed. He wanted to sink to his knees right there.

He'd never touched his hair, not even once. It looked soft and curly. Now he'd never get to.

He'd never told him he loved him. He wasn't even sure if he did but now he'd never know. He wondered if it even mattered, now that he was gone.

Gale.

It was too much, these feelings, this pain. He couldn't handle the weight of them. He pushed them away, focusing on the feeling he could understand. Hate.

Pinkman was still out there, right now, and he knew without a doubt in his mind that he was going to kill him and Heisenberg too. This was all their fault. They'd killed Gale to save their own pathetic, worthless lives. Gale, who was worth more than ten of both of them.

They would die for this. He was going to make sure of it.

He found Pinkman sitting in his car. He hadn't even tried to get away. He pulled his gun, imagining sending a bullet through his skull right now. His finger curled around the trigger.

Never in his life had he disobeyed a direct order but at that moment he almost did. Only the thought that he couldn't get to Heisenberg without Pinkman stopped him. He wanted them both dead even if it meant waiting.

"You bastard." He said as he got in the car, putting as much hatred as he could into each word like he could kill him with that instead. "Drive. Drive!"

He kept the gun at his head for the entire drive. There were so many things he wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him how much better than any of them Gale had been, how fucked up it was that he'd died for such a piece of shit, how badly he wanted to kill him. He didn't say a word though, unable to find the right ones. He didn't care if Pinkman died understanding what he'd done as long as he was dead. He wondered how pissed Gus would be if he brought him back with a bullet through his knee but he stopped himself.

The moment came when he had Pinkman and Heisenberg sitting in front of him and a gun in his hand. He knew Mike would kill him though if he killed the only chemists they had so as calmly as he could he walked back to a cart of beakers and test tubes and kicked it over, taking little satisfaction in the sound of the shattering glass.

Mike walked up behind him but he ignored him. He could feel the pain coming back, threatening to crush him with every moment he spent not killing Gale's murderers.

"The hell happened?" Mike asked, "He's gone?"

Victor looked away, not able to bring himself to say the words.

"Look at me." Mike said, grabbing him roughly by the shoulder and turning him towards him.

Victor looked him in the eye and he knew that Mike saw what had happened written on his face. Maybe he saw more than that but he only asked for confirmation.

"Gone." He said, his voice nearly a whisper. "Splattered all over."

Mike swore. "Did you already do a sweep?"

"Couldn't. People there." He said, not trusting himself to say more than a few words at a time. He glanced over at Heisenberg and Pinkman, wishing he was over there putting bullets in their skulls instead of being grilled by Mike.

"People? He get himself seen by these people?" He asked, gesturing to Pinkman.

He shook his head.

"What about you?" Victor looked away, not wanting to answer. Mike repeated the question.

"Yeah. So what?" The last thing on his mind right now was whether or not some nobody bystanders had seen him or not. "Just another looky-loo."

Mike didn't say anything to that, just went to call Gus for their next move. He wandered to the other side of the lab, not trusting himself to keep his cool now. Eventually he came back though and sat on one of the tables. The only sound in the room was the creaking of the table as his legs swung slightly.

He stared at the ground because everywhere else hurt to look at.

After a while Heisenberg tried to speak. "Shut. Up." Victor snarled at him, not giving a shit about anything he had to say right now.

He kept on talking. "-which means we need to start a cook in the next ten minutes to keep to our schedule. Gus's schedule. And as angry as he may be, I don't believe he's willing to forfeit and entire batch. That just might make him angrier." He paused for a moment but got no reply. "C'mon Mike, let us cook. Isn't that what this whole thing is about?"

That did it.

It didn't fucking matter if it was true. The thought that Gale died because a bunch of greedy bastards wanted their meth pissed him off. It also gave him an idea though.

He got off the table, stripped off his jacket, and grabbed a mask, making sure they were all watching him as he flipped on the machines like he'd watched them do so many times. He turned the valves, put on his gas mask and gloves, got the chemicals to fill the tank.

"That's right, genius. Watch me. We ain't missing no cook."

This was the answer he'd needed, the way to kill them. They were only still alive because Gus needed them to cook. But he didn't because he'd been watching all this time and knew the recipe just as well as they did. Maybe he didn't know all the science bullshit behind it but Gus could find someone else to do that. Heisenberg wasn't half so fucking valuable as he thought he was.

He almost forgot a step once or twice but each time he remembered and kept going.

Finally Gus showed up. He smiled nastily up at him. Now was the time. He knew what they'd done and now he knew that he could cook instead of them.

He pulled off his gloves and watched in anticipation as Gus came down the stairs. He could tell he was pissed. He didn't say anything though, just started changing into one of the clean-up suits. He meant to kill somebody, which was the only thing that kept Victor still when Heisenberg started spouting shit about Gale. He had no fucking right to even say his name, but he was going to be dead soon so he told himself it didn't matter.

Heisenberg wouldn't fucking shut up though, getting angrier and louder the longer the boss ignored him. He must've run out of things to say about himself though because he turned to Victor, yelling about how he couldn't cook.

"I've been watching him for weeks. I know every step of his cook." He told Gus, just in case he still believed anything Heisenberg said.

That pissed off Heisenberg and he stood up. Victor reached for his gun, hoping that he'd make a move, give him an excuse to shoot him now.

Mike stopped him though and he went back to ranting, name dropping more of his scientific bullshit like it made him so fucking smart.

"All his bullshit aside, it's called a cook. 'Cause everything comes down to following a recipe." He was provoking Heisenberg now, trying to make him angry enough to make a mistake that would get him killed now. "Simple, complicated, it doesn't matter. The steps never change. And I know every step." He smiled again as Gus brought out a box cutter, enjoying the sound of Heisenberg's growing desperation.

Any second now they'd be bleeding out on the ground.

It happened so fast that he didn't have time to move before the cold steel opened a bright stripe of pain along his throat. His gasp turned into a gurgle as his blood gushed out. His hands, slick with his blood, clawed uselessly at Gus's unrelenting grip.

Everything

Went

Black.

He'd never thought much about what happened after you died. When you were around so much death you learned not to think about it. Would he see Gale again? Was he waiting for him now? Doubtful. They probably weren't going to the same place.

He was about to find out though.

Pfft this is what happens when I get my hands on good shows. I regret nothing. Hope you guys got at least a laugh out of this!


End file.
